


The Warmest of Terms

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Betrayal, Communication, Episode Related, Fuck-you kiss, Kissing, M/M, New Beginnings, Post-Shark-Date, Rough Kissing, Trust Issues, comfort kiss, reassurance, season 3 fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: For the tumblr prompt: Oh! Could you do a 'fuck you' kiss, or maybe a 'comfort' kiss? Whatever you're in the mood for
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	The Warmest of Terms

“The men have been asking questions. Soon we’ll need an answer.”

“What’s next for us.” Silver starts talking about the pardons, the potential of Hornigold’s plans and what it means.

And Flint is listening, truly, but at the same time…he can’t keep his eyes off Silver. That confession out on the waves still resonates with Flint. How could Silver betray him like that? And stay at his side all this fucking time? He can feel the anger rising in him again and yet they’re here now. They’re alive. They survived.

He recognizes the merit of Silver’s words, and a response is drawn from him whether he wanted to speak or not.

“You’ve been putting this together all this time? And then never saying anything to me about it?”

“Well, you and I haven’t exactly been on the warmest of terms lately.”

“No, I suppose not.” _Whose fault is that?_ Flint wants to demand. But the answer there is both of them, and he knows it. Silver might have lied to him, but he’s not exactly been forthcoming lately. He wonders if that’s simply the way of it, how it will be between them until they can go their separate ways, or if there is a real chance for them here. When they speak with one voice, they can accomplish so much. When they work together…anything is possible. If Silver and he were true partners… The idea is too much for Flint to even really consider it, and yet he wants to draw the idea out into the broad sunlight and let it be seen for what it is.

“What?”

Flint blinks, focusing on Silver’s face.

Silver’s just looking at him. “What is it?”

Flint shakes his head. At first he had no intention to speak more of the matter, and yet. How can he let it rest there?

“I can’t simply move past it.”

He looks at Silver again and reaches for him, his hand clasping the back of Silver’s neck tightly, keeping him in place beside him on the sand.

Silver stiffens. His hand still clutches the rag he was using to wash his leg. But he has no weapons. To call out to another member of the crew would be to wreck the precarious ledge they’re already standing on. He licks his lips and waits, eyes boring into Flint.

“If you were any other man,” Flint leans in, close and conspiratorial, “You would be dead already.”

He’s close enough that his breath warms Silver’s cheek. He watches Silver react to that, or rather struggle not to. There are still some things he can’t hide.

Slowly Flint presses his fingers deeper into Silver’s flesh, keeping them firm against his skin, keeping Silver’s gaze focused on him. There is no room for anything else in this moment between them. He wants that to be very clear.

“If you ever do that to me again, if you ever even think of it.” He has an ending for that sentence, words he intends to say.

Instead Silver leans forward, one hand reaching for Flint’s shirt. He closes the distance between them with more force than Flint thought him capable of, especially in these conditions.

“Don’t give me a reason to.” Silver hisses.

And as Flint opens his mouth to protest that, Silver simply leans and crushes their mouths together. 

Flint’s taken by surprise, by the act, again the force of it, the sheer momentum of their lips meeting and pursuing. By the lust in Silver’s lips, the sheer audacious hunger that has Flint responding before his brain even knows what the fuck is happening here.

It is not how he thought kissing Silver would be like. And yes, he has thought of it.

The grip he has on Silver’s neck has shifted. Flint’s still holding him, but less of a warning now and more of a caress. Silver’s hand is still entangled in his shirt, but it’s not the grip of a man who’s waging an attack. His fingers slide over Flint’s skin through his open shirt and the longing there, in the press of his fingertips makes Flint’s chest tighten.

And then Silver pulls back, panting. His hand frees itself from Flint’s shirt.

“Fuck you.” Silver says, a trifle unsteadily. He pushes himself up, grabbing his crutch and stalks off as best as he can.

Flint sits there a moment, trying to make sense of what just happened. His tongue tingles from Silver’s kiss. His lips feel alive again. He has no clue why Silver chose that moment to do that.

At last he rises as well. Silver’s leg is still lying there in the sand. With a sigh Flint picks it up and follows him.

He finds Silver a little ways away on the side of a dune. Silver’s slumped down in the sand,

He startles at Flint’s arrival, glaring up at him. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what the fuck that was about.” Flint kneels in front of him and reaches for his stump.

Silently Silver lets him reattach the leg, hissing slightly but saying nothing until Flint’s hands are on the straps, fastening it in place.

“I thought I might not get another chance.”

Flint’s fingers keep working as he takes that in. “What, to kiss me?”

“Yes.” Silver says. “You say you can’t simply move past it. Well…I happen to be well aware of that. Do you think I haven’t examined and reexamined every possible outcome of telling you the truth now?” He gives a brief laugh. “I know that in all likelihood, this scenario sees me dead at the end of it.”

“So why kiss me then?” Flint finishes tying the straps and looks at him. “Why take that risk?” His hand is still on Silver’s thigh.

Silver’s smile is small and fleeting. “I told someone once that if I saw an opportunity, I had to take it.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want this moment to pass without taking it. That’s all.”

“That’s all,” Flint repeats. “I see.” He rises slowly to his feet, feeling the weariness of the day all through his body.

“Well.” Silver shifts slightly. “Maybe not, quite all.”

It’s barely a confession, let alone an admission of anything. And yet Flint knows it’s something. He knows Silver means something by it.

He sinks back down on his knees in front of Silver.

“What’re you.” Silver starts.

Flint touches his face, effectively silencing him. This time it’s his turn to lean in, his turn to close the distance. This time his lips are sure upon Silver’s, a reassuring thing, telling Silver that he made the right call, even if Flint had no idea he was weighing the decision to begin with.

He feels Silver tremble slightly and draws back, his hand moving to cup his chin, assuaging the longing there in Silver’s eyes.

“It’s all right.” Flint murmurs.

Silver just gives a brief nod, but he reaches out a hand to place on Flint’s arm, holding him in return.

They have time to work this out, Flint thinks. His thumb strokes the curve of Silver’s lip. For once they have time.


End file.
